Another Love Triangle
by SuperGlueSensation
Summary: It was almost the perfect romance story. The two were friends since childhood. They knew everything about each other. They always had each others backs. They always did everything together. There was only one problem, though. One of them was in my fucking spot. KennyxKyle, K2
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of the characters or plots or anything relating to it. Legal stuff, gotta make sure that shit's covered. So yeah! Here is the first South Park fanfic I've written. Ever. I hope that the characters are at least moderately in character and that these scenes you're about to read are at least semi-believable. If you don't think so, please do point out how I can make it better.**  
**Yeah, so this story is going to be a boy love kind of deal. If you don't like it, here is fair warning. Run, quickly. Run away and never return. [Now I want to include The Lion King in some chapter...] It is going to be K2. This is not a one shot. Umm... Yeah. So that is about all I can think to say. I hope you enjoy it! Or at least think it doesn't suck donkey balls. **

Kenny's POV

"Hey Kenny! Kenny!" Cartman's voice boomed through the room. Kyle looked annoyed. Stan didn't seem to care one way or the other.

"What?"

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"You seriously don't know? This is ground breaking news for you, Kenny."

"Just spit it out already, fatass!" Kyle rolled his eyes and stuffed a fallen book into an over-crammed drawer.

"It's official. They made generic Pop Tarts. I was at the grocery store today and they were right there in front of me! In their white boxed glory. It must be like Christmas for you, huh Kenny?"

"Fuck you!" I flipped him off and scowled.

"Why are you mad? I am sincerely happy for you, Kenny! It will be like a feast every night for you. Damn Jews and their generic food companies."

"Shut up, Cartman!" It didn't take long before Kyle and Cartman were at each others throats. Somehow it escalated into some crazy conspiracy theory about Jews cheating the honest working men out of their money by creating generic products.

"What's all this fuss about?" At the sound of the familiar shrill voice, everyone went quiet. Sheila Broflovski had managed to throw open the door and step in without any of us noticing. Stan was too busy trying to pry Kyle's hands off Cartman's throat. Kyle and Cartman were too busy trying to kill each other.

"Oh uh, nothing, mom. We were just-"

"Rehearsing for our project for-" Stan fumbled for something that would make sense.

"Hamlet!" I concluded, earning a confused look from Stan and Cartman.

"Yeah. You see, I'm Hamlet and Cartman is Claudius." Kyle explained. We all nodded.

"Well that makes sense." Mrs. Broflovski uncrossed her arms. I saw Stan mouth out 'it does?' Cartman shrugged, detached himself from Kyle, and walked to the front of the room.

"What do you think about generic food, Mrs. Broflovski?" Cartman asked. Kyle glowered behind him.

"Well I think it is a fantastic idea!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Broflovski. That was all I needed to know."

"Cartman..." Kyle spoke with a threat clear on his voice.

"You boys need to keep it down. Your father is up to here with work and he can't have you four here being so noisy."

"We'll be quiet, promise, mom."

"Okay then. My little bubbe is such a hard worker! Friday night and he's working on his school work with his little friends." She continued to speak her commendation as she left the room.

"Good call on the project, dude." Stan applauded silently. Kyle nodded in agreement.

"God your mom's a bitch."

"Shut up, Cartman!"

"Come on, guys. Kyle's mom is right. What are we doing hanging out here? It's Friday. We should be out doing... something." Stan began listing off places we could go. He concluded with, "Bebe is throwing a party tonight."

"Let me guess, Wendy's gonna be there?" Kyle crossed his arms over his chest, visibly put-off by the idea.

"She might be." Stan averted his eyes.

"Might be? Her and Bebe are best friends. Dude, you just want to go so you can make sure Wendy isn't flirting with some other guy. You were the one to dump her this time. You-"

"That's not why I want to go!"

"Totally is, dude." Kyle spoke matter-of-factly.

"I'm over Wendy. Fuck Wendy!" Kyle rolled his eyes.

"You two are going to be back together by next week."

"No way! I'm done with her."

"Why'd you guys break up this time?" I asked. Stan shrugged and looked uncomfortable.

"Stan is jealous because he thinks Wendy is flirting with another guy." Kyle answered for him.

"She _is_ flirting with another guy! That new kid came in, complimented her coat, and now she's cooing over him every time they cross paths!"

"Dude, you need to stop worrying so much. You're a great guy. Any other guy is totally second-rate." Kyle clapped his hand on Stan's shoulder. I pulled the hood of my parka up, annoyed for some inexplicable reason.

"Wendy is a fucking slut, dude." I kicked my feet off the board of the bed and stood. I wanted this conversation to end. "So where are we going?"

"Wanna do video games at my place?" Stan pulled his gloves out of his pocket and looked around the room until he found his shoes. He seemed fine with letting the topic drop too. Kyle removed his hand from Stan's shoulder and turned his attention to looking for his own gloves.

"Lame!" Cartman bawled.

"It sounds good to me." Kyle spoke immediately after. I didn't know if he actually wanted to play video games or if he just wanted to be on the opposite side of Cartman.

"Me too." It was free. I didn't mind not having to spend my constantly diminishing cash supply. "I've got a controller at my place."

"What about the system?" Cartman asked, grinning from ear to ear knowing he was about to be set up with another 'Kenny is poor' joke.

"All right! Let's go." Kyle spoke before I could, sufficiently cutting off Cartman's opportunity for said joke.

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Before we'd opened the door to my place, I noticed something was off. It was totally quiet. My parents weren't screaming at each other. I didn't hear Kevin yelling. Karen was never loud, but I didn't hear her either. I was kind of freaked out when I walked in. Part of me expected to see that they had all finally killed each other or something.

"Hi Kenny!" Karen's voice greeted me on my entrance.

"Hey Karen. Where are mom and dad?"

"They went out."

"Out? Out where?" I asked. Karen shrugged. She was sitting on the couch reading. It probably wasn't often that she was able to find a quiet enough spot in this hell hole of a home to read. "Do you know when they'll be back?"

"Probably tomorrow."

"All right. Thanks, Karen."

"Are your friends going to stay over?"

"Huh? Oh, well-"

"No way in hell-" Before Cartman could say anything else, Kyle had elbowed him in the gut.

"Not this time. We're going to play video games at Stan's. Wanna come?" Kyle knew that Karen wasn't a video game player, so there was no harm in inviting her. She wouldn't say yes unless Kyle was asking her to go to the library or some museum. My sister is too smart for her own good. It was no wonder that she and Kyle got along so well.

"That's okay." Karen shook her head while speaking.

"All right. Maybe next time! So what are you reading now?" Kyle asked. I couldn't help but smile. Kyle was always nice to Karen. He was like that with kids. It was... refreshing.

"Umm," Karen turned her book over and held it up. It was something about talking mice.

"I used to read that same series when I was your age!" Kyle exclaimed.

"Really?" Karen leaned forward, genuinely intrigued. Kyle started talking and, from the sounds of it, it was clear that none of us were going anywhere for a while. Karen was hard to get talking, but when she got started on something she liked, she wouldn't stop. Within a minute, Stan was fidgeting impatiently by the door and Cartman looked like he wanted to die.

"I'm gonna go grab my controller." I motioned toward my room.

"I'll go with!" Stan volunteered, eager for something to do. Cartman followed, muttering insults to my house and things about poor people sucking. I waved to Kyle as I passed, gesturing that I'd be back in a minute. He nodded, clearly in no hurry.

"What're you doing here? Karen said you were going to be out." Kevin all about ran into me coming out of his room.

"Getting my controller, why?" Kevin huffed something under his breath.

"When are you leaving? I'm having my friends over and I don't want you four here. Karen's bad enough."

"If you mess up the fucking house-"

"That's possible?" Cartman interjected. "Look around, guys."

"Fat boy's got a point, Kenny." Kevin smirked and left while Cartman was still shouting returned insults.

"Come on, let's get going." Stan pulled open my door. I frowned when I saw how much the doorknob stuck. Stan didn't say anything. Fortunately Cartman was too busy yelling at Kevin to care. He'd bring it up later if he found something to say about it anyway.

"It should be somewhere in here." I pulled open my desk drawer.

Kyle's POV

Weekends were a lot easier in grade school. Half the excitement was the simple joy of not having class. Finding something to do was never hard. Video games, sledding, Texans vs Mexicans; you name it and we would jump on it. Most of the time we'd get too carried away, cause more trouble than the average kid could handle, then find a way to copy homework before classes began again on Monday.

In high school, more than half that stuff was too kiddish to mention. Any game involving pretending, anything to do with sledding or playing at the park, it wasn't even worth bringing up. In high school, people go to the movies. They go bowling or to parties. Most of the time, at least two of us would wind up staying home playing video games. Stan didn't have trouble adjusting. He liked the parties and was so schedule-choked with sports that it was hard to catch him with free time in the first place. Cartman... I don't know what the hell he does and I don't care.

This weekend was no different. School ended, we crashed at one of our places, then we tried to figure out something to do. Cartman seemed half-ready to bail. I couldn't read Stan one way or the other. I wouldn't be surprised if, within an hour or two, it was back to the usual Kenny and I playing video games for too long. I didn't mind. Up until high school, I spent more time with Stan than anyone. Kenny has always been my second best friend, but I hadn't hung out with him enough to know him that well. High school changed that. At times, I almost wondered if he was going to be competing with Stan for the position of super best friend.

"Generic food is a good idea, Cartman. It's practically one of the principles of the country! Ever hear of free trade? Monopolies?"

"Blah blah blah! Principle of America!" Cartman imitated me in a high pitched voice. When I lunged at him, Stan caught me and planted me solidly back on the ground. Cartman laughed his obnoxious laugh. He was lucky that Stan was standing between the two of us.

"Try paying attention in economics, fat ass!"

"That class is for greedy Jews." Stan had his hand on my shoulder, ready to pull me away from Cartman again. Lately, Cartman had been getting on my nerves more than I could stand. It was like Cartman on steroids. Jackass steroids.

"It's a good class, Cartman!" Stan spoke in my defense.

"Yeah!" All of us looked at Kenny when he chimed in. He muttered something incoherent into his parka. I had not expected Kenny of all people to agree. It's not that he was bad at school, he just didn't seem to... like it. Aside from the people and the big breasted girls, he expressed no interest in it. At least not up until that moment. Economics? All right. Kenny likes economics.

"Sucking up to economics isn't going to make you any richer, Kenny."

"Fuck you!" Kenny stepped in front of us to get to open the door. He paused before opening it. When he did, I heard his little sister's voice. Strangely enough, hers was the only voice I head from in there. According to Karen, Kenny's parents were out for the night. Fine by me. It was always uncomfortable to listen to their brawling. Instead, the only thing I noticed was the scent of brownies. A pleasant change!

Right off the bat, I noticed what book Karen was reading. It was the first of the Redwall series. That had been one of my favorites as a kid. Hearing her chirping off things about how great Matthias and Martin were brought back hundreds of hours worth of memories. I don't know how long we had been talking, but eventually, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned, expecting it to be Stan. Instead, it was Kenny's brother, Kevin.

"What's up, dude?" I wasn't sure how to talk to Kevin, so I stuck with the most casual thing I could.

"I've got a few friends coming over tonight. I was wondering if you could do me a favor." That right there was more words Kevin spoke to me than he had in my nearly seventeen years of knowing him.

"Sure. What do you want?" I wasn't happy with how unsure my voice sounded. Kevin may have been known for being in the center of a lot of trouble, but I didn't want to treat him like some hoodlum. He didn't seem to notice.

"Well... Uh..." He frowned and looked intimidating for a moment. "Call it gay once and I'll stuff your face up your ass-"

"I won't say it's gay!" I threw up my hands immediately. I could take Cartman in a fight. That didn't worry me. Kevin? I wouldn't want to even try it out.

"Good. My friends and I made a bunch of crap. I got stuck making lame ass brownies." It wasn't until then that I noticed he had a brown... formless blob on his hand. It smelled like a brownie, but it sure didn't look like one. "Tell me what you think of it." Before I had a chance to say no, the formless blob was on my hand.

"Oh... uh..."

"What? You have a problem with it?"

"No! No problems here!" But there were problems. The first was that he had been holding that thing in his bare hands. The dirt and grime under his nails said he hadn't washed them in a long time. I sincerely doubted that any dish washing had taken place and part of me was concerned that the ingredients used would not be expired.

"Then-"

"What are you doing?" Kenny cut Kevin off before he could say anything. I was relieved. With the distraction Kenny, Stan, and Cartman's presence provided, I was sure I would be able to hide the brownie somewhere and claim it to be a great tasting thing. Like hell if I was going to eat that thing. I'd had food poisoning once and once was enough.

"Nothing. Fuck off." Kevin stormed out of the room but was not out of sight. I pocketed the brownie. I would feel too awkward to throw it away when there was a chance he was watching.

"Ready to go?" Stan and Cartman were already at the door by the time Kenny asked.

"Uh yeah. Sure." I stood up. Karen had resumed reading already. "Let me know what you think of the ending."

"Okay!" She chirped and kicked her feet back up on the couch.

"What the fuck did Kevin want?" The minute we were out the door, Kenny seemed to be up in arms. The relationship he and Kevin had was so opposite the one he and Karen had. It was a shame his older brother wasn't more of an older brother figure.

"Nothing really." I decided against telling him about Kevin baking brownies. God knew Cartman didn't need anything else in his arsenal. And something told me that if Cartman said anything about the brownies, I'd be the one getting murdered.

"Good." The rest of the walk to Stan's house was filled with Stan and Kenny's conversation about how hot the economics teacher was. Suddenly, Kenny's interest in economics made sense. I rolled my eyes and laughed to myself. Part of me was disappointed, though. Oh well. Kenny was women-crazed. That's how he'd been since I knew him. He had more experience with women than any of us. Except for Ike. I couldn't help but make a face at the thought.

"You don't think so?" It took me a minute to realize that Stan's question was directed toward me.

"Huh?" I honestly had no clue what he was talking about.

"Your face! You made a face." Stan insisted.

"What?" I looked toward Kenny who had burst into laughter. "What are you laughing about?" I demanded.

"You're getting distracted thinking about Ms. Andrews' tits!" Kenny laughed. Stan covered his mouth with his hand, but it was still clear that he was laughing too.

"I am not!" Sure, I had been distracted, but I wasn't thinking about Ms. Andrews.

"Then what are you thinking about? The part about me?" Kenny grinned and slung an arm around my shoulder. "I never knew you felt that way, Kyle!"

"What?" I jumped out of arm's reach and waved my hands in front of me. "I have no idea what you are talking about!" Stan and Kenny just laughed. I shouted my defense, but it got me no where. So I just stomped alongside them, thoroughly embarrassed. I should've known by then. Never tune out of a conversation led by Kenny.

Kenny's POV

Video games hadn't happened yet. Instead of playing video games, we got to sit around and wait for Shelley to move away from the TV. She had a friend over and they were planted in front of the TV eating.

"Come on, Shelley! You've had the TV all day!" Stan whined.

"Shut up, turd! I'm watching TV!"

"Cut Shelley-"

"I said shut up! You and your stupid turd friends had better shut up! And if any of you even think about touching the crap Emily got from the bakery, I'll break your arms!" Apparently, Shelley's friend had bought about twenty dollars worth of cake and other pastry shit.

"Fine. Come on, guys." Stan sulked toward his room. Cartman didn't start complaining until after we had the door shut behind us. It seemed like even Cartman was afraid of Stan's sister. I couldn't blame him. Kyle cut off Cartman's complaints about not being able to eat anything.

"You need to stand up to you sister, dude. You're sixteen. I doubt she could seriously still beat you up." Kyle slumped onto the desk chair.

"I'm not afraid of Shelley!" Stan protested.

"Then go grab a cookie." Kyle suggested and grinned.

"No way!" Stan nearly shouted. Kyle started laughing.

"Come on, Stan!" Cartman had joined in. "We deserve it! We had to walk all the way over here and-"

"Shut up, Cartman!" Stan looked annoyed. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Screw you, Stan!"

"So what do we do now?" Kyle asked.

"We could always go to Bebe's party. She lives right over there." Stan suggested, though it was clear that it was more of a plea to go than a suggestion for entertainment.

"I'm not going to Bebe's party." Kyle was set on that. Once he had decided on something, there was no way to change his mind. Shelley's voice cut off Stan's response.

"I am going to get a movie. Remember what I said! If one thing, one thing is gone, you're dead!" The door's slamming resonated through the house.

"Like hell am I sticking around here all night." Cartman walked toward the door. "I'm going home." Stan bade him farewell. After a longer time than I had thought necessary, the second sound of a door shutting sounded through the house.

"It's about time." Kyle let out a breath and reclined in the chair.

"Seriously. Man! What's up with that guy?" Stan sat and leaned against the chair Kyle was seated in. "Hey, why do you smell like chocolate?" That question caught me off guard. Why was Stan smelling Kyle? And what the hell kind of question was that? My phone buzzed, but I ignored it.

"Oh." Kyle pulled a brown blob out of his pocket.

"Dude..." Stan looked terrified. My jaw dropped.

"Fuck, dude!" I pointed at the blob, speechless. Kyle had never struck me as the type to flirt with death. Stealing a brownie from Shelley seemed like pure suicide.

"No no no! This isn't Shelley's. I got it from Kenny's house." Stan looked relieved.

"My house?" I pointed to myself. "We don't make fucking brownies."

"Uh, well..." Kyle rubbed the back of his head.

"Dude, if you stole something from Shelley, just go put it back."

"I didn't!" Kyle affirmed, flustered.

"Then where did you get it?" Stan asked.

"Kevin gave it to me."

"Kevin?" I asked. "Why did Kevin give you a brownie?"

"I don't know!" Kyle sat the thing on the desk. "I don't plan on eating it!"

"You swear it isn't-"

"Stan, God damn it! I didn't take anything from Shelley! You were standing next to me the whole time. If you just stood up to your damn sister then you wouldn't-"

"That's got nothing to do with this!" While the two bickered, I pulled out my phone. It was a message from Karen.

'Tell Kyle not to eat the brownie.' I rose an eyebrow and wrote back.

'Why?' I waited on a response. Meanwhile, the front door opened beneath us. Shelley and Emily talked for a while, their conversation was not audible until Shelley shouted at the top of her lungs.

"I'm going to kill you!" The three of us froze.

"I... sure hope she's talking to her friend." Kyle choked.

"I told you not to touch anything! And you ate it! You ate all of it!"

"Oh shit, dude! Cartman... Oh shit! He must have.. That bastard!" Stan stammered and looked around the room.

"God damn it." Kyle shut his eyes and sighed.

"Dude, you need to eat that now." Stan motioned toward the brownie. The sound of Shelley's footsteps were getting louder. My phone buzzed again.

"No way!" Stan all but rammed the thing down Kyle's throat. Kyle gagged. I thought he was going to throw up for a minute there, but all evidence of the brownie was gone before Shelley burst into the room. Kyle had managed to find a piece of gum in the few seconds he had.

"Which one of you wants to die first?" Shelley asked.

"It wasn't us! I swear, Shelley. It must have been Cartman!" Stan shouted. Shelley walked up to him. Stan looked ready to shit himself.

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Who else could eat that much in under ten minutes?" Kyle asked. Shelley turned her attention to him.

"Three teenage boys." Shelley answered.

"There's no way it could've been us, Shelley. There aren't any wrappers or crumbs or-"

"Shut up, turd! I can see!" After more yelling and threatening to hunt Cartman down, Shelley left. It took a while before any of us spoke.

"Close call." Stan sighed a breath of relief. I laughed and checked my phone.

'Kevin put something weird in it.'

'What was it?' I glanced to Kyle, hoping I'd be able to tell by looking at him. I couldn't tell any difference.

"I can't believe I had to eat that." Kyle muttered. "Fucking sick, dude."

"What was wrong with it?" I asked. The question was inconspicuous enough.

"Well, nothing was wrong with it. I just-"

"I wouldn't eat anything Kevin touched." Stan cut in. I agreed with him there, but it didn't tell me what Kevin did to the brownie. My phone buzzed again. I was about to find out.

"I'm going to get something to drink." Kyle stood and left. I waited until he did to check my phone.

'Marijuana.' I stared wide-eyed at the phone.

"What's up, dude?" Stan asked. "You look like you-"

"Look." I put the phone in his hands. In a matter of seconds, his expression mirrored my own.

"Oh shit, dude."

"Fucking shit! Fucking Kevin!"

"How do we even... Do we tell Kyle?" Stan asked.

"He'd flip!"

"Yeah." Stan pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "God damn it."

"What's wrong?" Kyle was back with a few cans of Dr. Pepper. "You guys want one?" He tossed us a can before we could answer. "What's going on?"

"Uh..." Stan looked to me.

"Nothing." I shook my head. Kyle stared at us for a while, unconvinced.

"All right, then. If you're sure it's nothing." He sat back in the chair and looked through the things on Stan's desk.

"So uh.. What do you guys want to do?" Stan asked. Kyle shrugged. Stan continued looking at Kyle. I realized a bit too late that I was doing the same thing.

"What are you guys looking at?" Kyle demanded. "You're freaking me out."

"Oh, oh nothing!" Stan stammered. "Hey Kyle! Would you mind grabbing another can of pop?"

"Why? You haven't even opened that one."

"Uh, this one is cold."

"That's how you drink pop, Stan." Kyle made a face.

"I um... have a toothache. Cold stuff makes my tooth hurt."

"Huh." Kyle rose to his feet and grabbed the unopened can of pop from Stan. "All right. You have any cans in the pantry?"

"I think so. Or it could be in the laundry room. All the way in the basement."

"Why would you keep pop there?"

"My mom, dude. I don't know." Stan answered.

"All right." Kyle left and Stan turned to me.

"What do we do?" I shook my head. I didn't know. "How do you stop people from getting high?"

"I don't know, dude. No one at my place has ever wanted to not be fucking high."

"Should we make him throw up?" Stan asked and looked around the room. I didn't know what for. I didn't want to know what for.

"Hey Kyle, you're looking a bit plump. Why don't you go puke a few times?" I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure that would go over well."

"We don't have to tell him to go throw up! We can just... make him throw up."

"How?"

"I don't know! What grosses Kyle out?"

"Cartman."

"We have to hurry and come up with a plan. He's going to figure out soon that there isn't any pop in the basement. Maybe he just... maybe it won't make him act different. Maybe he won't even notice. Maybe it won't have any effect on him."

"Maybe." I glanced toward the door. Stan shot off a few more ridiculous suggestions on how to make Kyle throw up before Kyle returned with a glass of water.

"You don't have any pop. I brought you warm water." Stan did not seem too enthusiastic to take it.

"Oh, thanks. How... thoughtful." The three of us sat in silence for a while. Nearly ten minutes had passed and none of us had spoken. Kyle had opened Stan's laptop and was messing with something or the other. Stan and I watched. We didn't have anything else to do. Well, Stan still seemed to want to make Kyle puke. Every so often, he'd look at Kyle's stomach and his expression would turn thoughtful.

"Awh man." Kyle ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back.

"What?" Stan asked too quickly. Kyle didn't seem to notice.

"I'm hungry." Kyle pressed his lips together and made a face. It was a bit out of character and it made me want to laugh.

"You just ate." Stan referred to our convenient last period lunch.

"Hmm." Kyle was unconvinced. "Do you have any chips?" He turned back to the computer and starting jabbing at keys in no particular order.

I glanced toward Stan. His expression said it perfectly. 'So much for it not having any effect on him.'

That was the start of one of the most memorable nights of my high school life.

**A/N: All right! So chapter one is done. Any thoughts? I am not overly thrilled with the chapter, but I hope that it is at least panning out to be a good start. I hope you agree! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I still don't own South Park, nor do I plan to.**

**Thank you to all of you who have favorited or followed or reviewed! All that positive feedback had me spinning. And most of it, I saw on Christmas. So thanks, guys! Merry Christmas to me. I get love.**

**I hope that this chapter does not disappoint.**

Kenny's POV

Kyle has always been... an uptight person. Sure, he has the fieriest temper out of anyone I've met, but he is a pretty reserved guy. It's cute. Well, as cute as a guy can get. So when the prospect of Kyle being high came to mind, I imagined that he'd be nothing more than a mellow version of the Kyle I see every day.

I have never been so fucking wrong.

"Kyle, please... Please stop touching my laptop." Stan's expression was one of pure horror. Kyle had unplugged the laptop from the charger and climbed on top of the desk. At Stan's plea, Kyle burst in to laughter. Again. "Kyle, stop laughing! This isn't funny!" Stan tried to climb onto the desk as well, but Kyle pushed him back off with his foot each time.

"Oops!" Kyle pretended to drop the laptop for the fourth or fifth time. When Stan lunged for the un-dropped thing, Kyle laughed even harder. I stood leaned against a wall, watching the show with the utmost entertainment.

"This isn't a joke!" Stan grabbed Kyle's foot, lost his balance and pulled Kyle off the desk. Laptop in hand. "Jesus Christ!" Stan hesitated too long to catch either Kyle or his laptop. I leaped across the room and caught the laptop before it hit the ground. Kyle was not so lucky. He fell face first onto the floor. We both stopped and looked at him, not sure what to do.

"Kyle?" I asked and took a step forward. He rolled onto his back, eyes wide.

"Are you all right, dude?" Guilt rang in Stan's voice.

"That was..." Kyle shook his head and sat up. "Freaking sweet."

"What?" Stan and I spoke in unison. Kyle pointed at the laptop I held in my hands.

"How'd you do that?" He asked, speaking much slower than usual. He dragged his words out long enough to where they were almost difficult to understand. Kyle shook his head again, seeming unfazed by the fall. "You're so fast!" I shrugged and offered the laptop to Stan. Stan didn't notice and, instead, turned his attention to Kyle.

"It sounded like you whacked your head pretty hard on the chair, or maybe it was the drawer..." Stan muttered the last bit to himself before going on. "Are you all right?" He asked again and knelt by Kyle's side.

"My head hurts, but I'm fine." Kyle placed a hand on the back of his head. Stan bit his lip and moved Kyle's hand away.

"Do you want like, ice or something?" Stan asked. I gritted my teeth and looked away. Kyle looked so grateful for the stupid offer. Ice? Stan pulled him off the fucking desk and Kyle was oggling him like he had grown fucking wings because he offered Kyle a bag of fucking ice!

I was pissed. I'd had the choice between catching Kyle or catching the laptop. Because I chose the laptop, Stan got to be all fucking tender and check for a knot on the back of Kyle's head while I stood holding a fucking piece of plastic. I shut it and sat it on Stan's desk before taking to Kyle's side myself. I couldn't shake the frustration and could not think of a reason why I was so frustrated. Kyle would have had it in for him had the laptop been broken.

"Where did it go?" Kyle looked around the room, confusion clear on his face.

"What?" Stan asked.

"The laptop!" He looked toward me.

"It's on Stan's desk." I answered. Kyle was visibly astonished.

"It's like magic." He blinked a few times and stood up.

"Uh, maybe you want to sit back down." Stan glanced between his desk and Kyle, probably worried that Kyle would threaten the life of another helpless piece of technology.

"Hey." Kyle grabbed the doorknob and turned back to us.

"What?" Stan asked.

"I'm hungry." Kyle answered.

"I know." Stan muttered. Kyle had mentioned being hungry at least ten times in the past half hour. Tormenting Stan only distracted him for a short while.

"I bet Shelley has leftovers." Kyle leaned against the door. It wasn't shut all the way, so he wound up nearly falling again. Fortunately, the door shut before he could wipe out. The look of shock on his face nearly floored me with laughter.

"No, Kyle!" Stan pried Kyle off the door and ushered him back to the middle of the room. "You need to stay in here."

"Why?" Kyle

"Because um..." Stan looked to me for some excuse. His parents had come home earlier than expected and he was nearly panicking worrying about how to get Kyle out the door without his parents noticing that Kyle was stoned. "Kenny will miss you too much if you go." He shoved Kyle toward me and mouthed 'I'll be back in a minute.' Kyle tripped again, so I caught him.

I was then left in a room alone with a very high Kyle. A very high Kyle who had yet to let go of me. I looked down at him. Even with dilated pupils and bloodshot eyes, he was still a pleasant sight.

"It's too bad that you're a fucking guy." I figured that Kyle would eventually let go on his own. There was no need to make him. It wasn't like he was bothering anyone.

"Why?" Kyle laughed and put his head against my arm.

"What are you laughing about now?" It was hard to make sense of him, but he said something about the word 'why' and saying it more than once. "It's hard to understand you when you're talking into a fucking coat." This launched him into a fit of laughter.

"So why is it bad that I'm a guy?" He asked again. Stan interrupted my answer with his entrance. I couldn't keep from frowning when Kyle pulled away.

"Here. I brought you uhh..." He sprawled the miniature feast out on the floor. There were a few bags of chips, bread, and peanut butter. And what appeared to be a half eaten bag of licorice.

"You're the best, dude." Kyle grinned. "Dig in, guys!" He tossed me a bag of chips and tossed the licorice to Stan. The three of us sat and ate. Kyle led the conversation for a while. I would like to recite it, but frankly, I couldn't follow it for the life of me. The conversation went from chip production to some string theory back to chips to auto-tuned music.

Things settled down after a while. Kyle seemed to have lost his initial idea of picking on Stan. Instead, he fucking glued himself to Stan's side. If it had been literally, I wouldn't have been as pissed as I was. After Kyle had stumbled onto the topic of romance novel cliches, Stan and Wendy's relationship came up again.

Kyle had managed to prop himself against Stan's side at some point. I assumed it had been when I turned my attention from them to a magazine. Though Stan and I laughed it off as my interest in the bathing suit clad women, I was trying to keep my eyes off of them. I'm not that hot on the idea of being pissed off, so I didn't feel like tormenting myself by watching the two.

Through the night, every time Kyle and Stan would interact, I'd find myself gritting my teeth and muttering under my breath. I couldn't explain the agitation. I halfheartedly decided it was because I was bored of their repetitive conversations, but conversations with Kyle weren't repetitive. Even if they were with Stan. Nothing against the guy, he's just a bit one-tracked. I tuned back in on their conversation and was rewarded with justification for my insult to Stan's conversation ability.

"I don't know. I don't get it. Why would Wendy cheat on me?" Stan sighed.

"She wouldn't cheat on you, dude. And if she did, then she's totally retarded. You're the best, really." Though his eyes were practically closed, it was clear that he was speaking genuinely. I muttered to myself and pretended I cared about the magazine again. I was tired of the "praise Stan for fucking walking" speeches. Kyle had named off just about every compliment in the book. Never before had I wanted Cartman there so badly. Had he been there, he could've called the two gay and ended it there. Instead, the fucking love fest went on.

"Tch." Stan hid his smile by making a face. He wrapped an arm around Kyle. "Come on. You need to go to bed."

"I'm serious, dude!" Kyle straightened up a bit, but wobbled when he did. "Anyone would be lucky to have you. I mean it." Though Stan didn't respond, he smiled. I gritted my teeth and pretended not to care that the two decided to share a bed or that Kyle borrowed Stan's clothes. I lifted the magazine to where it was all but pressed against my nose. By the time the two had finished getting ready for bed, I thought my jaw would break.

"Hey Kenny, you can crash here tonight. It's getting late." Stan motioned toward the clock.

"That's fine. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"You sure?"

"Positive." I fought to keep my voice from showing my frustration.

"All right. See you tomorrow, dude."

"Dude, it's late." Kyle sat up. "You shouldn't be walking around at night."

"I'll be fine. See you guys tomorrow." Though Kyle's concern made me happy, it didn't change my mind. I couldn't be in there for another minute. The minute I was out the door and far enough from the house to risk being overheard, I pulled the strings on my parka until my face was almost completely hidden by the thick fabric and shouted at the top of my lungs. I walked, shouting incoherent things until I was out of breath. "Why don't they just fuck each other already..." I stopped in my tracks, surprised by my own words.

Suddenly it made sense. Why I had been irritable all night. I was jealous. And it sure as hell was not just over the "super best friend" status.

"Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck." I grabbed my hooded hand and started walking again. If I was jealous of Stan and Kyle, that meant that... "Fuck no." I looked around the empty streets, almost hoping that some punk would jump out and provide a much needed distraction from my thoughts. No distraction was there, save for falling snow. After growing up in South Park, that hardly constituted itself as anything spectacular, though.

"All right, look." I was talking to myself and didn't care. "You've been spending too much fucking time with Kyle. That's it." I let out a breath and pocketed my hands. "Shit."

Kyle's POV

I woke up at Stan's house feeling worse than I could ever remember feeling. My head was pounding, my vision was blurry, but the worst part of it was the irrefutable need to barf. I nearly knocked Stan out of his bed climbing over him to make a mad dash to the bathroom. We were both lucky I knew the path so well, because I barely made it. When I'd sufficiently emptied out everything I'd eaten in the past month, I head Stan muttering something behind me.

"Huh?" I turned my head. That was a bad idea. I had to turn back and puke up everything from the month before too.

"Oh uh, I just asked if you were feeling okay." Stan's discomfort would've made me laugh if I wasn't hoping the ceiling would come crashing down and kill me. My only answer to him was puking more. "I'll uh, take that as no."

The rest of the morning passed in a kind of daze. Stan had dug up a spare toothbrush and let me make camp in his bathroom. Shelley's yelling all but killed me, but eventually Stan convinced her to use the other bathroom. I can't remember much other than that. I'd fall asleep, wake up, barf, go back to sleep. Stan would come in every so often with water and aspirin.

When evening hit, I was mostly better. I did the best job I could of disinfecting Stan's bathroom before I showered and found Stan sitting at his desk with his laptop.

"Hey." Stan jumped when I spoke and turned around, looking horribly guilty. "What's up?" I rose an eyebrow. His expression changed, though it looked as if it took effort.

"Sweet! You're not dead." He grinned and rose to his feet. "You want something to uh, wear?" I nodded and he moved to rummage through his dresser until he found something for me.

"Thanks." I motioned for him to turn away when I changed. When done, I slung the towel over my arm and leaned against the wall. The headache wasn't gone, and the idea of food still made my stomach churn, but I was dozens of times better than I was several hours ago. "Man, that was brutal." I looked toward the wrappers of food that lay where they had been left the night before. None of it seemed like anything that could cause any sort of food poisoning. "You and Kenny feeling all right?"

"Oh uh, yeah. We're great."

"Huh." I dropped onto Stan's bed and let out a breath. Silence stretched between the two of us. Stan stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. I figured I knew what it was about. "Sorry about last night." I lowered my head. "Is your laptop all right? If it's not, I can fix-"

"No, dude. It's fine. Kenny caught it, remember? Not a dent." He pointed toward the thing open on his desk. His email was pulled open, but judging by the looks of the screen, he hadn't checked the mail in weeks. It was pretty clear that he'd been looking at something else earlier. I wasn't planning to question him. I really didn't want to know what he was looking at that had him avoiding eye contact.

"Right." Again, silence consumed the conversation.

"So, by any chance, do you feel at all, I don't know, paranoid or um, like unusually energetic or lethargic?"

"What?" Stan avoided eye contact at my question.

"I was just reading something about-"

"Stan." I crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn't in the mood to deal with Stan's indirectness.

"Well, okay, so..." Stan started and shifted his weight. "It's just that, so..." He made a face. "Aww man, Kenny and I decided not to tell you, but-"

"Dude! What's going on? Is someone like, dead or something?"

"No! No, it's nothing like that. It's just that, well, okay. So you know that brownie Kevin gave you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it was um... It was a... It had weed in it." Stan looked nervously between me and the floor. My jaw dropped.

"You mean..." I opened and shut my mouth.

"Yeah. You were pretty high." Stan wrung his hands and glanced toward his phone. "We didn't want to tell you in case you'd freak out, but now that you're sober-"

"Dude!" I jumped up. Another bad decision. My head throbbed. I held my head in my hands and groaned.

"Totally weak, right? I'd totally kick Kevin's ass if I were you." Stan still seemed uncomfortable.

"Is there something you're not telling me? I mean, is there anything else I should know?"

"No! It's just..." Stan rocked his head back and forth. "I feel like a total ass for making you eat that. I seriously didn't know there was anything wrong with it until Kenny told me."

"Kenny knew?"

"No! Karen texted him, but he got the text too late."

"Oh, well, that explains the way Kevin was acting." I sighed and sat again.

"So you're not mad?" Stan asked. His eyes brightened.

"No way, dude. I'm pissed at Kevin, but I'd rather keep my teeth and not like, try to do something about it." I laughed. Stan nodded in agreement.

"If you want to, though, let me know! I could take him."

"Sure. And that's why your sister bullies you." I grinned. Stan punched me in the arm.

"Shut up, dude!"

"So like, nothing else happened?"

"Aside from you wiping out half my pantry and saying lots of weird shit, nah." Stan motioned toward the wrappers and I laughed. "You want a ride home? I can't imagine you feel like walking."

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks." I hadn't brought anything other than my coat and clothes, so it didn't take much time to get everything together. "Did Kenny make it back all right?"

"Huh? Probably."

"You didn't text him?" I asked. I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket. There were a few texts from my mom. I cringed. I'd be hearing about that later. "Uh, vouch for me when I say I got the flu."

"Sure."

"Thanks. Did Kenny text you?" I didn't have any messages from him. Normally I'd text him or make him text me if he left too late at night. Crime rates weren't that high, but Kenny didn't live in the greatest part of town. If a crime did happen, it'd be a lot more likely to happen near his place.

"No. I'm not his mother." Stan laughed and grabbed his car keys.

"Hm." I would've responded better, but I was busy typing up a quick message. I deleted it a few times before deciding on something casual.

'Dude. Hangovers suck.'

I didn't want him to know that I was texting him to make sure he was still alive. Something told me that would send off a weird vibe. I didn't get a response. That bugged me. Normally he wrote back within a minute or two.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah." I made sure the volume was up on my phone before throwing it back in my pocket.

"I wonder what Cartman wound up doing."

"You mean after he nearly got us killed? Seriously, I'm kicking his ass next time I see him." I checked my phone again. Still no response.

"No way, dude. I called dibs."

"When?"

"One, two, three, dibs!" Stan grinned and pressed the pedal to the floor in order to make it through the yellow light.

"Asshole." I looked out the window. That had to end soon. All the movement was making my head hurt. It was only ten minutes since I'd messaged him, but his lack of response bothered me. "Are you guys planning anything tonight?"

"I don't know. Maybe the movies. Why? You up to going out?" Stan turned toward me. "Not that I don't want you there. You just look about as green as your hat."

"Weekends don't come often enough." I lied. I wanted to go home and sleep until Monday came around.

"I'll drop by Kenny's place now." Stan turned and drove the familiar road to Kenny's place. When he pulled up, he honked three times. Somehow, that had become the signal for Kenny to know Stan wasn't planning on coming in.

"You could call, you know." I covered my ears. Stan stopped in mid shrug.

"Sorry dude, forgot about the hangover." I was relieved to see Kenny open the door. He walked easily toward the car up until I waved. His expression changed for a second and his gait lost its ease. "Hey Kenny! Want to go to the movies? Cartman's treat."

"What're you seeing?" Kenny asked. He'd walked around to the driver's side even though the passenger's side, the side I was sitting in, was closer.

"High School Musical 3 might have an encore."

"Fuck that shit!" Stan laughed.

"I don't know, man. You coming or not?"

"Yeah, sure." Kenny opened the door and slid into the backseat.

"Hey Kenny." I turned around in my seat to see him better.

"Hey." He looked out the window.

"Are your parents back?" His standoffish behavior was starting to get to me. I wanted to break into some kind of conversation. Stan had been awkward earlier. Maybe he was feeling bad about the whole marijuana brownie thing.

"Yeah." His answer was abnormally short. I wanted to question him on it, but he refused to look away from the window. I shot a look to Stan, but Stan didn't understand the unspoken question. Did I do something to piss Kenny off? The only reason the ride to Cartman's place wasn't unbearable was because Stan turned on the radio. Though every time the drums sounded, I thought my head was going to explode, I didn't say anything.

Once or twice, maybe three times max, I'd look in the mirror to see what Kenny was doing. The first time, he was looking out the window. The next time, we made eye contact via the mirror. All the other times, he was looking at the floorboards, cheeks red. Stan stopped in front of Cartman's house and honked three times.

"Oh shit! Sorry, Kyle." Stan held a hand to his head and looked apologetic. I motioned to say I didn't care.

"Hey Kenny?" I leaned over the back of my seat. I was going to force him to talk to me whether he liked it or not. He looked up, but I never got a chance to say anything. Cartman's voice drowned out every other sound. By the time Cartman had shut up, Kenny wouldn't look at me again.

"What's your problem, Jew-fag?" Cartman kicked the back of my seat.

"Food poisoning, fatass." I answered. Stan covered for me and took my place in bickering with Cartman while I sat sulking against the seat of the car. What had I done? Why wouldn't Kenny even look at me? Stan must have been keeping something from me. I had to have done something.

This thought bothered me through the rest of the ride to the movies.

**A/N: Agh. I hope I did not rush into the "confession of feelings" thing too soon. I was planning on dragging out the "I might like him I might not" thing a bit longer. I don't know. Let me know what you think.**

**Also, I don't know very much about the ins and outs of getting high. I mean, I've been around plenty of high people, but I didn't ask them what it felt like or how bad their hangovers were. I am going off of like, Yahoo Answers. So I apologize for things not being factual.**

**I am also sorry if this is like, to rushed. Agh. I don't know. I worry about this. Like, the plot-ish thing is getting introduced and I don't know. So yeah. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and that you will want to see more! Happy holidays, fellas.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. **

**Okay, so here is chapter three! I think this is the fastest I've ever gotten three chapters out consecutively. It must be from all this awesome support you guys are giving. I mean, man! I have 12 of you guys following me. That is... that is so nice! You guys are such lovely people. **

**Anyway, you guys are here for the new chapter, not for my confessions of love. So enjoy! As always, I hope it does not suck ass. **

Kyle's POV

By the time we pulled into the theater's parking lot, I was really regretting my decision of tagging along. My head was pounding, but worse than that was the incredible need to vomit. All I wanted was to find a bathroom to curl up inside and die. Instead, I got to sit through a gory horror movie. At least that was what the consensus was among the three.

"What do you say, Kyle? Ready for the sequel?" Stan asked, a grin on his face. I gave an unenthusiastic thumbs up and tried not to fall out of the car when I opened the door. "All right!" His enthusiasm made up for the enthusiasm I lacked.

"Sweet, dude!" Cartman leaped out of the car and strutted up to the ticket booth. Kenny followed without comment.

"You know, there is enough time for me to drop you off at home..." Stan had noticed the look of death on my face.

"I'm fine. Besides, Ike's probably got his friends over. A movie theater would be quieter than my house at this point." I attempted a smile. I thought that a muscle from my cheek was going to come out of my eye, but the smile was decent enough. Stan laughed.

"All right, man. Your call."

The scent of popcorn hit me, hard. If it had been a physical punch, I probably would've been in some sort of coma by the time I found Cartman and Kenny. Kenny sat at the end of the aisle. Cartman was to his left, sufficiently preventing me from sitting beside Kenny. This irked me more than Cartman's taunts about Jews being too cheap to buy popcorn.

"Hey Kenny. Ten bucks says there will be a sex scene in the first twenty minutes of the movie." Stan offered the bet.

"Fucking twenty minutes? More like the first scene! Hell no. I'm not stupid."

"Fine. Then if the first scene isn't sex, you owe me ten bucks. Deal?"

"Deal!"

Sure enough, the first scene portrayed a busty blonde chick getting screwed. Kenny cheered, though none of us could be sure if it was for winning ten bucks or because the movie wasn't censored. I pulled my collar over my nose to block out the smell of the popcorn.

"Who the hell would go outside?" Cartman shouted. When someone shushed him, he turned around in his seat, spilling his pop all over the floor. "Hey!" Either he didn't notice or he didn't care. "Don't you shush me!" He turned back around muttering "Assholes..."

"Shut up, Cartman! I can't hear the movie."

"Like you need to hear this crap! She's going to get killed. Her friend is going to- Hey! Who threw my pop on the floor?"

"You did, fatass." I moved my foot away from the spreading puddle.

"What's that, Jew?"

"Cartman, would you shut up already? I've already missed like, the whole scene." Stan complained.

"Why you hiding your face? Are you scared? Aww! Kyle's afraid!" Cartman ignored Stan's complaint completely.

"I'm not afraid. Your popcorn reeks. How much butter did you put in there?"

"Yeah. And why does it smell like nachos?" Stan turned his attention away from the movie for a minute, not that he was able to pay attention as it was. Cartman proudly displayed a mostly empty container full of some sort of popcorn seasoning. My stomach churned, so I pulled my collar further over my face and turned my attention back to the movie just in time to see someone's head rolling across the ground.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever seen."

"God damnit, Kyle! I can't understand what you're saying! Are you trying to be Kenny now?" Cartman turned back to the group trying to convince him to shut up. "Hey! You shut up!"

I looked over in time to see Kenny walking toward the exit. Frustrated and feeling more nauseous than before, I sunk into my seat and glared at the screen in front of me. I wished Kenny would just say what was bugging him already. That or take it out on Cartman.

Kenny's POV

Kevin was lucky that he was out by the time I got home. I was ready to fucking kill him. I had managed to work it out in my head to where all of this was Kevin's fault. Had Kevin not gotten Kyle high, Stan wouldn't have gotten all touchy feely and I wouldn't have turned into a jealous prick. Kicking Kevin's ass wouldn't fix anything, but it would have put me in a better mood.

I flopped onto my bed and yelled into my pillow. What was I going to do? Kyle was easily my best friend. He was the greatest guy I'd met in all my sixteen years on this shitty planet. How was I supposed to pretend that I thought otherwise? I didn't need to convince myself that I hated Kyle, just that I didn't want to... That I didn't have the thoughts that I had about him.

The only way to do that was to get him out of my head. I had to avoid him for a week, maybe two. It would be tough, but it was the only thing I could think of.

So when morning came around, I ignored the texts I got from Kyle. I didn't send any messages asking how he was doing or asking Stan how Kyle was doing. Hell, I sat around and did homework until Stan's horn blared outside my window.

"You could call, you know." I muttered and checked my phone. It had another text from Kyle. "Sorry, Kyle. This is for the good of both of us." I pocketed the cheap thing and grabbed my parka from the floor. Hanging out with Stan would keep me distracted enough, even if he probably was going to talk about some lame ass thing like football or Nick Cannon.

I shut the door behind me and lifted a hand to greet Stan. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Kyle sitting in the front seat. I thought for sure that he'd be home sleeping off a hang over. Hell knew I'd seen enough idiots high. Most of them were my family.

"Hey Kenny! Want to go to the movies? Cartman's treat." Stan shouted out the window. Normally I'd just lean in through the passenger's side window, but trying to keep thoughts of Kyle out of my head might be a bit fucking hard with my face nearly touching his.

"What're you seeing?" I avoided Kyle's eyes.

"High School Musical 3 might have an encore."

"Fuck that shit!" I made a face and threw my hands up. I'd had enough of that singing and dancing bull shit. Stan laughed. Good thing he was kidding.

"I don't know, man. You coming or not?"

"Yeah, sure." Saying no would raise too many questions I hadn't thought up fake answers for. I climbed into the back seat, keeping my eyes either on the floor or out the window. The minute I sat down, Kyle turned back to face me.

"Hey Kenny."

"Hey." Growing disease kept me from saying more. Though I had tried to not look at him, I still saw him in my peripheral vision. Poor guy looked majorly fucked up. What was Stan thinking letting him come with? There was no way in hell Kyle was up to standing, let alone hanging out at some shitty movie theater.

"Are your parents back?" Kyle was trying to start some sort of conversation. I wanted to talk to him normally, but I couldn't. If I wanted to keep him as a friend, I had to blow him off. So I answered with another short thing.

"Yeah." Kyle turned around, visibly upset. I gritted my teeth and kept reciting to myself some bull shit about this being for the best. During the ride, I'd glance in the mirror every so often to check on Kyle. I told myself it was strictly out of concern for his health, nothing more. The sound of a horn blaring had me fucking jumping out of my seat.

"Oh shit! Sorry, Kyle." Stan groaned an apology. I looked up in time to see that Kyle had covered his ears. Right, hangovers don't respond well to ear-splitting noises. While we waited for Cartman to hobble his fat ass outside, Kyle turned back to me again. My stomach dropped. I wish he'd just give up.

"Hey Kenny?"

"What the hell are you doing? Honking your damn horn like you're some sort of God damned president!" Cartman threw open the door and clamored inside.

"We're going to the movies. After the stunt you pulled last night, you're paying." Stan pressed down the accelerator before Cartman could object.

"Screw you, hippie! You've been hanging out with Kyle too much. His greedy Jew-rat habits are rubbing off on you!"

"Fuck you, Cartman! Shelley was going to kill us!" Stan shouted. Cartman sat back in his seat and grinned, clearly satisfied with the shit he'd caused us.

"What's your problem, Jew-fag?" Cartman directed the question to Kyle after Kyle finally lifted his head from his hands.

"Food poisoning, fatass." His tone was harsher than usual. I told myself it was from the hangover, but I knew that my shunning him sure as hell wasn't helping.

Conversation broke into discussing what was playing in theaters. There were a couple romcoms. Those things were the dumbest shit. There were some kiddie movies and one horror movie. Since everything else sucked, we decided on the horror movie.

"What do you say, Kyle? Ready for the sequel?" Stan nudged Kyle. The two had gone on for days when we'd seen the original. Both would quote things and reenact the scenes. I was gritting my teeth again. The minute Cartman got out of the car, I followed. I was here to distract myself, not to think about how perfect Stan and Kyle were together.

Cartman bought the tickets without complaining too much. That surprised me. While Stan and Kyle stayed back talking, Cartman bought out half the snack counter and picked where we'd be sitting. I sat on the aisle seat so as to avoid the chance of sitting next to Kyle.

"I seriously think we should go as these guys for Halloween, dude. It would be sweet!" Stan chirped on, more excited about the movie than the rest of us. When Kyle only nodded and made some unintelligible sound as a response, I found myself wanting to cheer.

Whether it was to stay farther away from Cartman or something else, the minute Kyle sat down, he moved toward the other end of his seat so far that he was practically on top of Stan.

Hey Kenny. Ten bucks says there will be a sex scene in the first twenty minutes of the movie."

"Fucking twenty minutes? More like the first scene! Hell no. I'm not stupid." I'd seen more than enough horror movies to know that.

"Fine. Then if the first scene isn't sex, you owe me ten bucks. Deal?" Stan grinned, looking confident. Like hell Stan was going to win in a bet against me when it involves naked chicks.

"Deal!"

Before the opening credits had finished, I had won ten bucks. I cheered, sat back, and tried not to look at Kyle. Normally naked women took my mind off things, well, things other than naked women.

I wasn't able to pay a minute of attention to the movie. All that went through my head were things like, 'Why did I sit on the fucking aisle seat?' and 'Why haven't you said anything to Kyle yet?' and 'Fuck doing things for the fucking greater good.' While Cartman and Kyle went back and forth about popcorn seasoning, I got up and left. I planned to come back, I just needed to clear my head, get a drink of water or something.

"What the fuck am I doing?" I leaned against the wall outside the bathroom and sighed. I needed to talk to Kyle. "And say what?" I shut my eyes and tried to keep the frustration from rising any higher.

"Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you!" Cartman's voice pulled me out of thought. He stormed off toward the door, theater security further behind him. A few seconds later, Stan and Kyle walked out of the room. Kyle had his head down, face buried in his hands. Stan looked like he was ready to fall over from laughing. I made my way through the rising crowd coming out of the theater room.

"What happened?" I asked. Kyle shook his head, refusing to show his face. Stan clutched his stomach, doubled over laughing.

"Kyle just puked in Cartman's popcorn! It was great!" Stan shouted and patted Kyle on the back.

"Shut up, Stan!" He lifted his head to glare at Stan, face bright red. The poor guy was mortified. And my reaction didn't help. Within seconds, I was laughing as hard as Stan.

"All right, dude! Hell yeah!" I held my hand out for a high five. Mixed emotion showed on Kyle's face. He high fived me then flipped us both off.

"You both suck."

"Come on dude, that was priceless!" Stan called after him. Kyle stormed off to the bathroom. Stan turned to me. "You should've been there, man!"

"Why is everyone leaving the theater?" I motioned toward the theater room the entire janitorial staff was entering.

"Well, uh, Kyle uh... threw up a lot." Stan was biting back laughter. I couldn't help but laugh too. I felt bad for Kyle, but if he hadn't been the one hurling, he'd have been laughing too.

"Awh man." I shook my head. "I'm gonna go check up on him."

"All right. I'm going to go grab my coat." Stan's expression changed to terror. "Oh God. I sure hope it escaped the carnage." He quickened his pace and I laughed all the way to the bathroom. When I got to the door, I put on my best serious face. Knowing Kyle, he'd be hanging his head about this for weeks!

"Hey Kyle." I glanced under the stalls until I found him. Fortunately for him, he was the only one in there. "You all right, dude?"

"I want to die." He answered. I pushed open the stall and stepped into the crowded space. He sat with his back against the toilet, face pressed to his knees. I sat beside him and slung an arm over his shoulder.

"Don't sweat it, dude. Those things happen to everyone."

"Everyone vomits into a popcorn bucket that gets projectile launched to splatter over the whole theater? I must've missed that every other time it happened." Kyle leaned against my side. Despite his words, he was trying to hide a smile.

"You've never been to the movies with Kevin Stoley, have you?" I grinned and Kyle coughed to cover up laughter. He looked up to me, a question clear on his face. I guess I decided against asking it, because he lowered his head again and just smiled.

"So where did Cartman go?" He asked after a while.

"He stormed out of hear like a bat out of a fucking barbeque." Kyle laughed again.

"Fucking nacho popcorn seasoning." He covered his face with his hands again, but his mood had clearly lifted.

"Hey Kyle! Kenny!" Stan's voice echoed through the bathroom. "You guys want to head back now?"

"Think you can manage a car ride without blowing chunks?" I asked and helped him to his feet.

"Fuck you, Kenny."

"Woah, you must be feeling a _lot_ better." I grinned. The look of horror on Kyle's face all but killed me.

"Fuck- I mean! Oh God damnit, Kenny!"

"What?" Stan looked back. He'd missed the exchange.

"Nothing, nothing at all."

**A/N:Once again, I am not sure how I feel about this chapter. I wanted to drag out Kenny's attempt at trying to ignore Kyle for longer, but that was really hard to do since the plot freaking depends on their interactions. I don't know. We'll see what happens. Let me know what you guys think. I love suggestions. They help tremendously. Tell me what you guys want to see and it might just happen. By the way, sorry these chapters keep getting shorter and shorter. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Oh boy. I didn't seriously leave you guys waiting over 2 months for a chapter, did I? Sorry about that. I didn't think that so much time had passed! I mean, I knew, but... **

**I'll try to be better about this. I want to finish this story. So let's get on to the actual chapter!**

Kyle's POV

Things with Kenny seemed to be back to normal. That much had me sleeping easier. Oh right, backtracking a bit. I finally got to go home and sleep off my hangover after the movie fiasco. With Kenny's adamant explanations, my mom was sold on the idea of food poisoning to the point where, for a while, the two were sitting in the living room discussing potential law suits.

Anyway, the weekend passed without too much event. You could say it passed with no event if you don't count homework as being eventful. Normally I don't, but it'd sound lame as hell to say I didn't do anything worth mentioning after parting with Stan and Kenny. I do have a life outside those guys.

Class came earlier than I would've liked. It seemed like only hours ago since I was stuck sitting in a desk behind some moron who either smelled like he was shitting himself or eating a chicken sandwich. No matter how warm the classrooms got, I'd have to keep my scarf on. It was my only shield between myself and toxic fumes.

I fastened my scarf around my face in the most discreet way I could manage while still blocking out the impending stench. At the beginning of the year, I'd tried to convince Cartman to trade seats with me. Apparently my "Jew rat" skills weren't efficient enough. I muttered under my breath and leaned back in my seat.

"Getting ready to take a nap?" Kenny dropped in to the seat in front of me before the stinkpot could. He tried to get Kenny's attention, but Kenny spoke over him. "That's a pretty fucking awesome plan." He pulled his hood over his face and leaned back until half my desk space was taken up with his head. "Rome's boring as fuck."

I blinked a few times, not sure what to say. There wasn't really any way to predict what Kenny was going to do from minute to minute, so I can't say that his random as hell seat change struck me as horrifically outlandish.

"Dude, if you want to take a nap, you shouldn't sit in the front row." Stan took a seat to the left of me and unpacked his notebooks from his bag. "Besides, we've got that lame ass project due."

"Project?" Kenny and I spoke in unison, both sitting up with the same level of shock.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. I was flipping through my notes already for some indication of this 'lame ass project' I couldn't recall for a second.

"Shit. Kenny, didn't you give him the syllabus?" Stan turned to Kenny. I looked between the two, still at a loss.

"What syllabus? When?" I asked.

"Last week when you were out sick, she assigned a project on the aqueducts. Kenny said that he was going to be meeting up with you later on for-"

"Oh shit!" Kenny slapped a hand to his face. "Fuck." His blue eyes widened with guilt and concern.

"Look, maybe she won't get to you guys today." Stan spoke in a measured, though his words were hardly of any consolation.

"My last name starts with a B." I shut my eyes and sighed. "What do we have to do for this thing anyway? How much is there to say about God damned aqueducts?" Before Stan could answer, obnoxious laughter cut him off. Cue Cartman's arrival to class.

"This is fucking great!" Cartman pounded his fist on his leg, laughing loudly.

"Shut up, fatass!" I looked to Kenny who looked as lost for an idea as I was.

"There are five minutes before class. There's no fucking way you're going to get anything together in time!" Cartman bellowed.

"He's right, man." Stan looked pointed to the clock. The classroom was almost full. "You're going to have to either eat those points or come up with some awesome excuse."

"If we're not here, we can't get flunked." Kenny was on his feet in a second. "Come on." He grabbed my bag with one hand and my hand with the other.

"Wait, we can't just ditch! They'll call our parents and-"

"Trust me, I've got this covered." Kenny nodded to Stan. "Thanks for the heads up, man. You're a fucking lifesaver." Stan lifted a hand in confused acknowledgment and watched as Kenny and I darted from the classroom, speed controlled by the manic blonde.

"What are we doing?" I asked in a whisper once we hit the hallway. No one but teachers and disciplinarians were in the hall by this time. He let go of my hand and motioned for me to follow him. I didn't have much of a choice in doing otherwise, so I followed. With a delinquent kind of grace, he maneuvered the halls in a way that completely avoided any unwanted contact.

"Locker rooms." He pulled open the door and motioned me inside. When we walked in, we were surrounded by other students changing for class. I followed him to his locker. "Now we stall around here until everyone clears out." His calm was impressive. For a second, I was admiring how cool it was. I could feel my face red from the nerves of ditching class, missing an assignment, and embracing the path of a sure-to-fail student while playing over every worst case scenario in my head. Meanwhile Kenny stood beside me, smiling, calm, cool.

"Then what?"

"We make a break for it." His eyes glittered with excitement.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were enjoying this." I grumbled and pulled the scarf off my face. I wouldn't be needing it today.

"Who says I'm not?" He grinned and rocked back against the lockers.

"Bastard." Despite my words, I was grinning too. An uncomfortable kind of silence fell between us afterward. For some reason, I felt out of place. Maybe that wasn't the right word, but something felt off about the whole thing. Kenny was getting under my skin a lot lately.

Kenny's POV

It was a long shot, but it had worked out better than I had planned. How do you get one on one time with someone when you're constantly stuck with two other people every time you try to get that alone time? That's a harder question than you might think.

Last Friday Kyle was out with another cold.

"Fucking Jew is always getting sick with something." Cartman was in a particularly pissy mood. He always was whenever Kyle missed school.

"Did you stay up late coming up with another Jew joke or something?" Stan asked, rolling his eyes while he spoke.

"Fuck off, hippie! What's your boyfriend doing anyway? Fucking every snot nosed shit head in the school?"

"Fuck off, Cartman!" Stan threw a punch and the two kept up their squabbling until the bus showed up.

For some reason, the question of when the last time I'd hung out one on one with Kyle popped in to my head. I knew that he and Stan did that all the time. Sometimes I'd hang out with Stan one on one too, but never Kyle.

"Huh." I took a seat in the back of the bus, unsure of why the thought bugged the shit out of me. It wasn't so much that I didn't have that time as it was that Stan did, and often. I wanted to ditch out of the bus and head over to Kyle's to remedy that, but the bus was already in motion by then.

When the opportunity to drop an assignment off at Kyle's came up, I jumped at the chance. I sounded like a fucking moron, so I made up some dumb as fuck excuse about returning a power tool to his dad or some shit like that. I never intended to give him the assignment and saw to it that every time it was mentioned, I was distracting him in some way or the other. Handing the red head a homework sheet while he was stuck at home sick wasn't the one on one time I wanted. I wanted a full day of undivided attention. Stan could suck a fat dick.

Everything went according to plan too. Kyle was clueless when Monday came around and Stan brought up the fucking project syllabus. I almost felt bad for Kyle, but I already had his back covered. If we couldn't get out of class, I'd written up some shitty project for myself and a better one for him. I wasn't going to let him fail. I'm not Cartman.

So the two of us were standing around in the locker room for a couple minutes. Kyle was doing anything possible to avoid eye contact. I didn't mind too much. I had a lot going on in my own head. Last Friday's thoughts still stuck in my head. The jealousy toward Stan and Kyle's relationship had not left, not for a minute. My resolution of staying away from Kyle had fallen apart within the first day too.

"It looks like everyone's gone." Kyle pulled me from my thoughts. "What now?"

"Two choices." I took a step from the locker and stood in front of him.

"And those are?"

"One, we stay here. There's a shitty as hell attic structure up in the bathroom. We can sit in the vents until classes end."

"Thrilling."

"Two, we get out of here."

"How?"

"Simple. We walk right out the doors."

"That's impossible. Security has the exits on total lockdown."

"Not the door in here." I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the shittier side of the locker room.

"There's a door here?" He looked around when we stopped. In response, I pulled open the storage supply room. He looked at me questioningly before stepping in. I shut the door behind us. The room went black after that.

Kyle's POV

When Kenny shut the door, we were left standing in a pitch black room. I freaked the fuck out. Kenny grabbed my hand again. I could feel him move close to me, but I couldn't see him. He didn't say anything either. My heart sped rate jumped through the roof.

"What are you doing?" I asked, panic almost completely concealed in my voice.

"It's dark. If you don't know where the door is, how would you know which way to go?" He asked, voice as calm and cool as it had been before. I felt the blood rush to my face and muttered some idiotic response like 'oh' before putting my head down and offering silent gratitude to the darkness.

The light from outdoors nearly caught me by surprise.

"Woah." I looked around, recognizing the courtyard of the school.

"Now you know why there's a steel wall in the middle of our fucking flower garden." Kenny kicked the door shut, no concern for the sound it made registering. I laughed. "So where to?" He asked, voice playing on something between making fun of the prince charming dialect and consideration.

"Preferably off school grounds." Without needing to ask, he led the way to the exit from the courtyard. When we got to the door, he looked at me expectantly. "What?" He raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise.

"You don't have anything to say after leading you through the escape of your fucking life?" He smirked. It didn't look like he planned on opening the door until I said something. As much as I wanted to shove him to the side and tell him either to fuck off or that this was just making things equal for having forgotten to give me the assignment, I laughed.

"All right, Mr. Knight in shining armor. I'm in awe. Can we go now?" He returned my laughter and opened the door.

"After you."

**A/N As per the usual, I am not exactly happy with the way this chapter came out. The next one, hopefully, will come out sooner. Thanks for everyone who has stuck around and offered encouragement for getting past the writers block/laziness/business that comes with a busy school schedule. I hope you liked it! **


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